CORRUPTION WITHOUT SHAME: HOW THE PF NORMALISED PLUNDER FROM GRASSROOTS TO SECRETARIAT
One of the most damaging legacies of the Patriotic Front (PF) administration is not just the scale of corruption, but how deeply it was embedded into the party’s DNA.
Corruption under the PF famously sanctioned by Edgar Lungu who publicly said Uubomba mwibala, alya mwibala-meaning a worker who looks after the crop in a field should help himself to its produce. 
In short, corruption was not an isolated vice of a few bad apples at the top; it was systemic, routine and shameless, stretching from the grassroots cadres to Members of Parliament and right up to the party secretariat and executive.
The PF era normalised corruption to the point where it became a political culture rather than an aberration. PF cadres expected payment to mobilise. MPs viewed public office as a personal enrichment opportunity. Party officials openly competed for access to State institutions, contracts, and concessions. It was a conveyor belt of plunder, lubricated by political power and protected by intimidation.
It is against this background that comparisons are sometimes drawn with countries such as China, where corruption is treated as a serious crime against the State and society, attracting extremely severe penalties under the law. In such jurisdictions, systemic corruption of the magnitude witnessed during the PF reign would not be brushed aside as “politics as usual” or dismissed as opposition propaganda. It would trigger sweeping investigations, mass prosecutions, and harsh sentences meant to deter others. The comparison is not to glorify punishment but to underline how extraordinary the PF’s tolerance for corruption had become.
At the grassroots level, corruption thrived openly. Party cadres controlled bus stations, markets, land allocations and public spaces, demanding fees, bribes, and “party contributions” as the price of doing business. These activities were not rogue operations; they were politically sanctioned. Cadres who wore the green party regalia, invoked the ruling party’s name through words like “Ifintu ni Lungu or Lungu” for 2021 and acted with the confidence of people who knew they were untouchable.
Members of Parliament were no better. Many PF MPs confused representation with entitlement. Parliament became a staging ground for personal deals, influence peddling, and protection of corrupt networks. Instead of exercising oversight over the Executive, MPs often functioned as foot soldiers defending looting schemes, attacking investigative institutions and intimidating whistle-blowers. Public outrage was met with arrogance, insults and threats.
At the party secretariat, corruption was institutionalised. The secretariat became a clearing house for deals, appointments, and access to State power. Loyalty was rewarded not with ideology or service but with contracts, positions, and protection. Those who questioned excesses were marginalised or expelled. What mattered was not competence or integrity, but proximity to power and willingness to participate in the feeding frenzy.
This culture infected State institutions. Law enforcement agencies were weakened or weaponised. Anti-corruption efforts were reduced to public relations exercises. Investigations were stalled, files disappeared, and suspects were shielded as long as they sang from the ruling party hymn book. The message was clear: if you were PF, the law did not apply to you.
The tragedy is that corruption was not even hidden. Luxury vehicles and even helicopters were acquired from unexplained wealth, and lavish lifestyles were flaunted in the face of mass poverty. Building of foads, hospitals, and schools were inflated or abandoned while a few individuals accumulated obscene riches under the slogan of Sonta apo wabomba-show us what you have done. The national debt ballooned as borrowed money disappeared into private pockets, leaving future generations to carry the burden.
This is why the PF’s attempts to reinvent itself as a champion of good governance by the likes of Brian Mundubile ring hollow. A party that presided over such widespread, organised, and unapologetic corruption can not simply wash its hands and blame individuals. The rot was structural. It was encouraged, defended, and celebrated.
In countries with strong anti-corruption regimes, systemic looting of national resources is treated as economic sabotage. Do you remember that term? It was commonly used under the UNIP government, which constituted the dreaded SITET, acronyms for the (Special Investigation Team on Economics and Trade in Zambia). It was an investigative body established under the UNIP government, led by President Kenneth Kaunda, to combat corruption and economic crimes.
Under the UPND, the law recognises that corruption kills silently by depriving citizens of healthcare, education, jobs, and dignity. It destroys institutions and erodes national sovereignty. That is why penalties are designed to be severe enough to deter repetition.
The PF benefited from a system where consequences were weak, selective, or non-existent.
Zambia is now paying the price. The economy had to be rescued from the brink by the focused leadership of President Hakainde Hichilema. Confidence in public institutions had to be rebuilt. The fight against corruption has had to start almost from scratch, precisely because it had been normalised for so long under previous regimes.
The lesson is clear. Corruption is not a victimless crime, and political parties that turn looting into a way of life eventually drag the entire nation down with them. The PF’s record should serve as a permanent warning of what happens when power is divorced from accountability and when leaders treat the State as a personal cash machine.
Zambia deserves better than a politics of plunder. It deserves leadership that understands that public office is a trust, not a reward; a responsibility, not a licence to steal.
